


Drive My Car

by Anon6285_omo (Anonymous6285)



Series: Beatles Omorashi [4]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Car Ride, Embarrassment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Wetting, friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22439857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anon6285_omo
Summary: George Harrison has to pee on the car ride back to the hotel.
Series: Beatles Omorashi [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612729
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Drive My Car

**Author's Note:**

> This is in my bigger work, but I thought I’d post it into this series, as it’s the only other Beatles omorashi story not in the series.

George kept his eyes out the window of their car as the driver navigated through the traffic one car at a time. He settled down into the seat, trying to block out the noise of Ringo and Paul fighting. 

“I told you to leave me alone, Paul!” Ringo was practically shouting at Paul, and John closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. 

“I still don’t understand what I was doing to you! Why are you so mad at me??” George felt like he could just disappear. And to make matters worse, his bladder was as full as his ears were of Ringo and Paul’s words. 

He knew it would be smart to tell somebody about his growing problem, but he also knew that they would be stuck in this traffic for a long while, and it’d be better to just not tell his friends, right?

But the driver seemed to notice, though because he rubbed George’s arm and started to talk. “I’m going to get you boys back to the hotel as fast as I can, alright? Don’t worry about anything.” 

George hated how he was hinting at the situation, but none of his friends seemed to even care. Paul and Ringo continued to argue, and John continued to ignore them as much as he could. 

Hours went by as they argued, and John had since realised what was wrong with George. But it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. George squirmed around in his seat, his abdomen on fire. He had legitimate tears rolling down his cheeks, though he still kept quiet. 

The driver took notice of the pain the boy must be going through. “Son…” His voice was low so the others didn’t hear. “We won’t be back for a while. I don’t mind if you..”

George looked away from him. He knew he was too far gone but he couldn’t just piss himself. Not while in the same car as his friends. Surely they would smell. And he’d be humiliated. He shook his head. 

“The seats can be cleaned, I promise. If you don’t make it, I won’t be cross with you.”

George knew he was trying to be nice and assure him that everything was alright. But everything was in fact not alright. He felt like a child, sitting there about to completely wet himself. And there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. 

Eventually, George knew it was just too late, because even though every part of him was still holding on, he started to pee, and he couldn’t stop. As more and more liquid left his body, it stopped soaking into his pants and started to pool on the seat.

He put his hands over his crotch to try to stop it, not knowing what he was supposed to do. Piss just kept coming out and wasn’t stopping. The puddle on the car seat was getting bigger and bigger, and suddenly, it was bigger than the seat could handle. And he still wasn’t close to being done. 

He tried to hold on again, save the floor, but his efforts were in vain. He squeezed his legs together, sending the majority of his puddle onto the plastic foot guard on the floor, splashing. 

He continued to empty himself onto the poor seat and now floor, and it felt like an eternity until he was done. But instead of relief, all he felt was pure shame. He had really just pissed himself. 

And of course the driver knew, but when George felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see John, who was sitting behind him. 

“It’s alright, Geo. We’ll be there soon.”

George promptly burst into tears. John knew, and just the though of that was too much for him to handle. He glanced over to Ringo and Paul to see that they were still arguing, so it wasn’t like cared at all. But ideas of the horrible things John must be thinking of him flashed through his mind the entire ride back. He could care less what the driver thought, but John was his friend. 

All too soon, they arrived at their hotel, and Ringo and Paul immediately got out. John followed suit, but George stayed put. 

“Son, it wasn’t your fault. I’ll take care of the seat, okay? Go get yourself cleaned up and in bed.” The driver’s kind words echoed in the young guitarist’s ears as his door opened. 

John stood with his oversized coat pulled off of him. He was handing it out to George. And that was all he needed for another wave of sobs to overtake him. 

“It’s alright, mate. It happens to the best of us. Just put this on so nobody sees, yeah?” George shook his head, mumbling words. “Nobody needs to see what’s happened, Geo. There are cameras out here. If you want this to stay between you and me, just slip this on.”

George took the jacket, which fell beyond his knees, buttoning it up all the way. He was still crying too much to talk, so John led him through the crowd of paparazzi and onto the lift waiting for them. Paul and Ringo were waiting. 

“What took you so long? What’s wrong with him?”

“Paul, you git, shut up!”

“No, you shut up!! I was just asking what was wrong!”

“We’ll maybe nothing’s wrong!”

“You—“

“Would you two shut the hell up!! George has been through enough, and he doesn’t need you daft sods arguing with each other anymore!!” The lift grew incredibly quiet as it started to climb floors. 

“Are you alright, Geo?” Ringo looked him over. 

George only nodded, still too choked up to speak. 

“I’m rooming with George tonight. I hope you two don’t mind.” John got straight to his point, causing Paul to glare at him. The lift dinged and opened the doors. The four of them started down the hall to their rooms, but Paul stopped John. 

“I’m not staying in a room with Ringo, John!! You can’t do that to me!”

“First of all, Richie’s not that bad. And second, not everything is about you. George really isn’t doing great, and I need to be with him tonight, okay? Don’t you understand that?”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

They all got settled in their rooms, and George went immediately to the shower, leaving John to wash his clothes. After his shower, he emerged from the toilet, face redder than ever. 

“I’m so sorry about all of that. And your coat…”

“No, no, mate. It’s alright. Why don’t you get in bed, yeah?”

The guitarist looked to the floor. “Can I share with you, Johnny?”

“Of course, Geo.” With that, George was cuddling into John in his bed and tucking his head into John’s neck. 

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“My pleasure. Goodnight.”

George smiled to himself. “Goodnight.”


End file.
